


I Don't Believe You

by MistressAkira



Series: FE Rare Pair Week 2k17 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Bittersweet, Healing other's wounds, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rivalry, hate flirting, injuries, they hate each other so they flirt with each other but they dont hate each other that much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressAkira/pseuds/MistressAkira
Summary: Saizou gets hurt, and Tsubaki has a lot to say about it- and other things.Written for FE Rare Pair Week 2k17, Day 2, prompt: Hurt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day two of FE Rare Pair Week, prompt: Hurt.
> 
> Because Saizou is a huge fuck-up and I fucking love him.
> 
> Once again, this is not a couple I ship very hard, but I fucking ship Saizou with everyone so it’s not like I don’t like this pairing too. Their dynamic is pretty awesome, the man who refuses all failure and the man whose very identity is made up of his failures.
> 
> Also, this is pretty much just hate flirting. That’s it. Also, refers to their sparing matches in their suppers. 
> 
> I wish I owned a lil’ plushie Saizou for my shrine. I do not own Fire Emblem.

The day’s battle had been a long and hard one. Ryouma was reckless as always, and it fell to Saizou to cover his back whenever he went and got his ass surrounded by enemies; today’s enemies had been a whole brigade of Nohrian dracoknights, and without Saizou’s quick thinking, he’s pretty sure both his liege and himself would’ve been eaten.

Hell, he _feels_ like he’s been eaten. Or perhaps being eaten would have been better, because he wouldn’t feel like _this._

Nearly two-thirds of the army had also taken a harsh beating during the day’s events, and were now all crammed into the medical tent along with Saizou, their army’s scant three healers running about in a frenzy to try and get everyone looked at. There were screams and crying from the various rooms, and the thick smell of healing magic hung in the air, setting his teeth harder on edge and his pulse skyrocketing.

Saizou hated everything quite fiercely in that moment.

Ryouma had been spared the worst of the dracoknight’s lances thanks to Saizou, which was really all that mattered, but he instead had been badly wounded. A short personal analysis of his injuries concluded in a number of bruises, four large gashes requiring stiches, seven burns needing salve, and an aching pain in his chest that was likely caused by a few broken ribs.

Saziou could deal with the bruises, and he had some salve for burns back in his tent (because one can never have enough of the stuff when you work with pyrotechnics on a regular basis), and he could _deal_ with some broken ribs, but he couldn’t just wander around with gushing, eight-inch long slashes all over his body.

If one of the healers _would just look over here,_ he thought irritably, he could get some sutures and just sew himself up. He’d done it enough times during his training days, and would probably be quicker with it since he didn’t care if it hurt, but none of the healers had made it to his end of the tent yet, let alone looked this way. He wasn't normally one to complain, but with the absolute chaos inhabiting the medical bay at the moment, he knew he probably wasn’t leaving any time soon.

He’d staunched the bleeding the best he could with some strips of fabric in a tight binding around the wounds, and besides feeling like the ass end of a wyvern, he was out of immediate danger; there was little point in wasting more time just sitting here. If he ransacked Corrin’s butler’s room, he could probably find some thread to sew himself up with, and save everyone the trouble of having to deal with him.

Making up his mind, Saizou pushed through the pain and got up to leave. He half-hobbled his way to the tent flap, reaching to push through the flaps just as another body was pushing through the opposite side.

The resulting collision nearly knocked Saizou off his already unsteady feet, a pair of slender arms catching him just before he crumpled to the ground. It took him a moment to find his bearings, hands clutched tight to the figure on front of him’s uniform. The arms around him were strong and graceful, half holding him up even when Saizou got his feet back under him. When he finally looked up from his pitifully unstable stance he was met with the brown eyes and elegant features of Tsubaki.

Tsubaki was wearing that mild expression he always did (an expression that Saizou thought just made him look like a clueless floozy), but his eyes were laughing; Saizou had the distinct impression they were laughing at him.

He pushed away from the knight as quickly as possible, _balance be damned_. Tsubaki let him, and his arms fell away easily.

Saizou noted with a small sense of accomplishment the blood stains that now marked Tsubaki’s formerly pristine uniform as he struggled to stand as tall he was capable. He was failing miserably, so instead opted for the frostiest look he could summon.

Tsubaki seemed unencumbered by both the glare and blood stains, offering Saizou the pleasant smile of a cat with an injured bird between its paws. “Saizou. How are you holding up?”

“Fine.” He replied sharply.

Tsubaki raised an eybrow. “I’m sure you are. But, what are you doing here then? Something to do with the lance you took to the back earlier?”

 _Of course_ , Tsubaki had seen that. He always seemed to be in just the right place at the right time to see Saizou inevitably fuck up. “Leave me be. I was just leaving.”

Tsubaki’s arm came up to both simultaneously block Saizou’s exit and push him back. “No, you’re not. Sit.”

He bullied Saizou back into the chair he had been sitting in just a moment ago, and gave him strict orders to stay put. Saizou gave him orders to fuck off. Tsubaki rolled his eyes and walked away, returning a moment later with a roll of gauze and a suture kit.

He settled himself beside Saizou on his knees, grabbing a pair of scissors and leaning in to cut away the fabric binding his wounds. With a mild interest, Saizou noted how good Tsubaki looked down on his knees; he was at the perfect height to be elbowed in the jaw. He shifted his arm in be in a better position to do so.

“If you even think about it, I’m going to _accidentally_ sew your arm to your body.”

“No you won’t. It’ll damage your perfect record.”

“I never said I wouldn’t fix it afterwards.”

Tsubaki finished with the scissors, pulling forth a needle and thread and without any additional warning, plunged it into Saizou’s skin. He grunted from the sudden intrusion and Tsubaki chuckled.

“You get hurt too often as it is. It’s pretty sad, really.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re a mess.”

As he went about stitching him up, an easy silence fell between them; conversations with them never went very well when weapons weren’t involved, so Saizou welcomed the quiet.

Even with all his nerves shot between the injuries and the chaotic medical tent, Saizou finally found himself coming down from the high of battle and the real tiredness setting in. His skin prickled from every swipe of the needle, but it was such a small, dull thing compared to the aches invading his body now. All he wanted to do was sink into his chair, rest his head against the wall and sleep. He was keeping himself sitting up by pride alone.

“What’re you doing here?” He eventually asked Tsubaki.

“I’m here to help, clearly. I knew a few extra hands were needed with all the injuries, so I volunteered.”

“Of course, you did.” Saizou scoffed. He winced a moment later as the needle bit particularly hard into his side. “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“Of course, I do.” Tsubaki replied, flashing him a smile as he held up the bloody suture and shook it lightly, causing all the thread up Saizou’s side to jerk along with it. Saizou groaned out in pain again, head falling back against the tent wall. Tsubaki just kept grinning as he went back to work.

He was doing this on purpose. Saizou watched the top of his head with an overwhelming urge to slam his elbow into it. Tsubaki was horrible on any given day, but this particular level of cruelty was new.

“Hey… what’s uhh- wrong?” He asked from between gritted teeth. Tsubaki had moved from the wound on his side to the one that ran just over his ribs, and with the way he was stitching it up, Tsubaki clearly had no concept of mercy. 

“I was worried about you.” He hummed back without pause.

Saizou was a little surprised by the answer. But he was more surprised by the honesty.

“ _Were_ you?” He asked skeptically.

“I was.”

Tsubaki’s hands on his body suddenly became much gentler. He was keeping with the rapid fire sewing pace he’d had, but the lines he drew with the needle were smoother and he tugged on it less.

Saizou brought his head back up from the wall and made an obvious show of looking directly at the man below him. Tsubaki stopped his mending and lifted his gaze to look back.

“I don’t believe you.” Saizou declared without changing his expression.

Tsubaki snorted, an imperfect sound that he would have never made in the presence of anyone else. “Then don’t believe me. We were paired up, and you ran off and got yourself beaten within an inch of your life, so naturally I was worried.”

“And why would my life be of any consequence to you?”

Tsubaki replied by chuckling again. “Why, because we never got to finish our duel, of course… and I haven’t claimed your life as mine yet.”

When he lifted his head that time and met Saizou’s befuddled gaze, there was a heat in his stare that hadn’t been there before. His eyes were lidded and he wore the absolute most horrific grin Saizou had ever seen on a human being.

Saizou could only gape helplessly back. Tsubaki's gaze seemed to pierce the very fabric of Saizou’s being, his reasoning as dangerous as a threat or a promise. He became overly aware of Tsubaki’s hands on his stomach, the heat of their touch and the perfect fit they found among the spaces of his ribcage.

Tsubaki tossed his hair over his shoulder and went back to work. Saizou let go of a breath he hadn’t been aware he was even holding when their eye contact broke.

A short while later, Tsubaki was finished. Saizou wanted nothing more than to stand up and stretch, but the idea of accidentally popping a stich and having to sit through this all over again with Tsubaki so stupidly close to him kept him grounded. But as Tsubaki tidied up, and was rising to leave, Saizou boldly struck out and grabbed him by the hand.

“Thanks, and uh, thanks for worrying about me too.”

Tsubaki’s mild expression had returned, but Saziou saw a new depth in his eyes that belied some emotion he couldn’t place. “One of us has to be human around here. You’re welcome.”

He squeezed Saizou’s hand and left. The warmth lingered in his palm as Saizou watched him go, and he almost wished he had ripped his stitches back open.


End file.
